Dear Marilyn (BoyxBoy)

The Lion, The Witch and The Closet

December was soon upon us, with its nights dark and wintery and to be honest with you, I was grateful for it and even welcomed it with open arms. It was as if Mother Nature had heard how I was feeling and had ordered the season to change, just as I had changed.

I no longer wanted to be met with glorious sunshine every day, because quite frankly, I was not feeling glorious. I was feeling dark and cold, just like December did and yet no matter how hard I tried, I could not hold on to this feeling for long.

Christmas did not want me to.

It wanted me to be happy and everywhere I looked, I could see twinkling lights and hear Mariah Carey's 'All I want for Christmas is you' blaring out of people's homes. It made me feel like everything was going to be OK and deep down I knew it would be.

It had been a few months now since Mum had left and we had discovered that she was actually living with someone and in a brand-new relationship. No one knew the ins and outs of it, but I was happy for her.

Probably sounds crazy I know, but after all these years looking after us kids, all I wanted was for both my Mum and Dad to be happy and whatever way I looked at it, I knew they hadn't been for a long time. It just left me wondering now what to do in my own love life and I really did not know who I could talk to or how I would even begin?

School was going really well, and I was having no issues cracking on with GCSE revision and coursework being set. It was actually a welcome distraction from what had been going on at home but even that seemed to be settling down now. I guess that once the initial shock of Mum leaving had passed, we just pulled together, as families do and the Mum shaped hole that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, quickly got patched over by us all having to grow up that little bit quicker. For our Dads sake and for all our sake. To help him through it and to help each other through it. Christmas was of course going to be hard this year because it was always a huge celebration for our family, but like Mum leaving, we would just get on with it like we usually did. At least we had each other.

I received a letter on December the 11th, 2002 (how incredibly old school), from my singing teacher who I'd had lessons from in Year 7, when I dreamt of being the new Craig David. It was asking me to go and audition for a new amateur dramatic production of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, that was being cast in one of the villages near where I lived. Apparently, they needed a Peter (who was the oldest brother) and although she had never seen me act, she'd had an inkling that I would be perfect for the role. Plus, they were desperate, really desperate. Their first and second choice for the role had both joined the cast and swiftly dropped out due to 'artistic differences', so she thought I had a good chance of getting it.

I wondered why that was? I wondered whether I could act? I wondered so many different things but eventually wondered why not? So, I agreed to do it. She jumped for joy when I responded and could not be more grateful for me stepping in and giving it a go. I had no previous acting experience but felt like maybe this was just my chance to lose myself in something other than school, sports, or the impending doom I felt every time I thought about me and Polly.

I was lost in my own way and searching for the light at the end of the tunnel, so I decided to just push forward with general life and threw caution to the wind. I explained to my singing teacher, that transport would be an issue for me, due to my current parental circumstances and she was more than happy to arrange a lift to rehearsals for me. She confirmed the next day, that the director himself was more than happy to come and get me and drop me home, as a thank you for saving the day and that he would pick me up that evening at 6 o'clock.

I went to school as normal during the day and had butterflies every time I thought about the show and what a big deal it was for me. I was known for being sporty and one of the lads, so to just put myself out there to be judged it felt scary, but good scary and I began realising that this was exactly what I needed at the moment.

I rushed home as soon as the bell rang, showered, wolfed my dinner down without coming up for air and then sat patiently on the stairs waiting for pick up time to roll round. 5.55pm soon came and there was a light tap on the front door. I rushed down to answer it and on opening I was greeted by a 6 foot tall, dark haired man, with hazelnut coloured eyes and a gorgeous smile.

'Hi, I'm Devon.' He said.

Something stirred in me and my stomach instantly did back flips. Whether it showed on my face or not, I'll never know, but this play, for reasons I was not expecting, had suddenly just become a whole lot more interesting.